Angel of Death
by Nimitz4
Summary: MA - Alec has been captured and tortured by White…how dark will our angel Max allow herself to become?
1. Default Chapter

Title: Angel of Death  
Author: Nimitz4  
Rating: R  
Show: DA  
Genre: Drama  
Pairing: Max / Alec  
Type: WiP

Summary: Alec has been captured and tortured by White…how dark will our angel Max allow herself to become?

Authors Note: This is for all the angst addicts out there…I wrote this on a wet grey winters day when I was listening to 'Clubbed to Death' (DJ Rob D) over and over and over again, so the weather and that song set the tone.  
Disclaimer: I don't own DA – if I did the show would still be running…

**ANGEL OF DEATH**

Layer: 001 – Requiem 

Alec had been missing for three days.

Three days of worry…three days of searching…three days of pain, fearing his loss.  Now he was found…

Max gasped when she saw his still form, slumped in the steel chair.  The metal binds on his wrists and ankles were the only things keeping him upright.   White's guys had really gone to work on him.  There didn't seem to be a section of his skin unmarked - bruises painted his body like crude tattoos, in mottled shades of purple, red, and yellow.

A terrible dread washed through her as she approached him.  Her body felt heavy, and the air she walked through was like liquid…each step closer seeming to take a greater effort than the one before.

*He's so _still_…*

"Alec?  Ohhh…please no…"

Her shocked eyes flew over his face, absorbing the details of his bruises, reading the story that they told through his broken skin.  The trembling fingers she had reached out to caress his brow, froze in mid-air…too scared to cause him further pain through her gentle touch.

His skin was a pasty grey colour and Max's throat was thick with fear as she hesitantly pressed her fingers to his throat, praying for a pulse.  She exhaled in relief, unaware that she had been holding her breath, a dreadful anticipation binding her tight.

*Faint…but still there.*  Relieved tears flooded her eyes.

"Stay with me Alec…you **can't** die on me…" 

His handsome face lolled back to one side, and his normally mischievous and playful eyes were closed tight.  The angular beauty of his features were bruised and battered, one eye swollen closed under dark purple skin.  His full lips were split and puffy from having taken countless punches, and she saw the dried paths on his cheeks where his tears had run, unable to stand the unbearable pain.

*It must have been **so** bad…*

Glancing down she saw the dark blistered burn marks trailing down under the front of his shirt, displaying a terrible path down the skin of his neck to his chest.  The anguish she felt at her failure to be there for him, to prevent his pain, almost overwhelmed her.

"Oh god…Alec…I'm so sorry…"   

It was then that she noticed the dark blood, which had soaked the fabric of his shirt around his shoulders and neck - blood which was now dried and crazing across his throat.   A grave apprehension seized her.  Terrified to witness the damage, and yet unable to bear the unknown, she slowly reached out her shaking hands.  

The normally soft hair framing his face was now matted and filthy with his sweat and blood, and she swallowed in pain, as she felt the thick stickiness of his blood coating his hair at the back of his head.  Taking a gentle hold of Alec's face, she tilted his head forward, towards her, to better see his injury.

Air hissed as Max sucked in a shocked breath through her teeth, and her hand cupped her mouth in involuntary reaction...

Where his barcode had been, there was now a mess of torn, ragged skin.  The incisions had been made with an instrument ill suited for delicate surgery.  It was like whoever had done it had used blunt scissors to cut, and snip his marking away, leaving uneven flesh and ragged strips where beautiful smooth, whole skin had once been.

Max suddenly understood with a chilling clarity that the motivation for this, hadn't been to torture him per se.  This had been an act of sheer defilement.  The hands that had rent his flesh so hatefully had done so in some monstrous attempt to remove the essence of what defined Alec as a living being…what defined him as a transgenic.  With instinctive insight Max knew White had ordered it…and by allowing it to happen, it was as if he had performed this foulness with his own hands.  A deep hatred stirred in the very core of her being. 

Max started as she heard a quiet noise, and then she realised that it was the sound of her own sobbing.  Suddenly she couldn't bear the sight of Alec bound to the cold metal frame any more.  Her fingers tore at his binds, working the locks…crying in frustration at her inability to remove them fast enough.

She frantically looked around, seeking a tool to use, when she saw the metal table positioned just off to the side.  It was lined with surgical instruments and torture devices, many now stained with the dark bronze of Alec's dried blood.

A nerve twitched in her cheek, and her face hardened as a raw fury surged through her, almost unbalancing her in its ferocity.

"Fucking…_bastards!_"

She grabbed the nearest knife, an evil looking tool with a long slim blade, from the selection laid out with a disturbing neatness upon the table.  Sinking to her knees beside Alec she went back to working on his bindings with a renewed determination.

"I'm getting you out of here…Alec, please stay with me…_please_…" She begged his silent form.

As the last metal band was removed he slowly slid from the chair into her waiting arms.   The sudden weight of his limp body forced her to collapse backwards onto the cold concrete floor.

"Oh god…_oh god_…" He felt cool to her touch, and there was a barely perceptible rising to his chest.  Her tears were coming freely now, as she cradled his motionless body in her arms. 

"Alec…please **don't** …_please don't die on me_…" Her whispered voice cracked as the words choked in her throat, and she was gasping through her ragged sobs.  "I can't …_I can't_…without you…"

The thought of him extinguished from her life forever was too terrible to imagine.  Max suddenly realised the truth she'd fought to deny all along…she loved him…not as a brother or friend.  A genuine deep love that up till now she'd taken for granted by its constancy, arrogant that it would always be there…that he would always be there.  So she had mistreated it, smothered it in denial, because the thought of owning it openly had scared her like no other.  Now the thought of losing it forever terrified her…

Taking one of his cold hands in hers, she desperately pressed the scraped skin of his knuckles against her mouth, trying to kiss the brokenness away.  Her hands grasped at his, and tried to force his fingers to hold her face, but the heaviness of his unresponsive arm caused it to slide through her fingers, to fall beside him on the ground.

She could feel the cold clamminess of his skin beneath her fingers and she sensed that he was slipping away before her.

"No…no, _no…Alec_…**No!**"  

*Not now…_not now!_*

Grief stricken she ran her hands across his body, frantically patting and stroking his lean body, as if the act of her touch could awaken him from his unnatural slumber.  With a growing despair she knelt to lean across his still chest and reached out her shaking hands to gently brush her fingers across his face.  She wiped her hand across her wet face, and reached out to gently wipe the caked grime and dried blood from his beaten handsome face with her tears.

"Alec…shhhh….shhhhh…please…. anything…just _please_…"

Her voice was hoarse through emotion, and she whispered the words like a mantra until her breath ran empty…then just mouthing the words in a desperate silent pleading.

Taking a deep gasping breath, she slowly lowered her mouth to lightly touch her lips to his bruised mouth.  *Please…_please…please_….  Shaking, she pressed her mouth tighter to deepen the contact, as if she could kiss the life back into him.  She reached out with all her senses…desperately trying to connect with him, to call him back.  Max lifted her mouth from his, and rose up to watch his face.

Nothing…except a sense of warmth escaping him…

With a dreadful fear she reached her trembling fingers to his throat and felt once more for his pulse, her hot tears streamed down her face.

Nothing…

Max sat back on her knees, and blinked her wet eyes in shock.

*This can't be happening…this **can't** be happening…_this can't be happening…_*

Gradually her body started to shake as the realisation hit her, her body reacting before her mind had fully processed it yet.

*Gone…* A wordless keening cry escaped her throat.

Max bit down hard on her lip in an effort to contain it…trying to force the pain down deep inside.  She barely noticed the coppery taste of her blood when her teeth broke through the soft skin.

Blindly staring ahead into the darkness of the warehouse…unseeing…only feeling the heavy weight of his still body in her arms, and a cold emptiness washing through her.   She became aware of a terrible pain, deep in her core, as if some vital part of her had been ripped from her body…leaving a wintry bleakness, and an ache like nothing she'd experienced before.

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	2. Retribution

Title: Angel of Death  
Author: Nimitz4  
Rating: R  
Show: DA  
Genre: Drama  
Pairing: Max / Alec  
Type: WiP

Summary: Alec has been captured and tortured by White…how dark will our angel Max allow herself to become?

Authors Note: This is for all the angst addicts out there…I wrote this on a wet grey winters day when I was listening to 'Clubbed to Death' (DJ Rob D) over and over and over again, so the weather and that song set the tone.  
Disclaimer: I don't own DA – if I did the show would still be running…

**ANGEL OF DEATH**

Layer: 002 – Retribution 

For an unknown period of time, she sat like that, just cradling his still form in her arms.  The stiffness of her body made her wince in pain as she shifted her position, bringing her back to an awareness of her present location.  The voice in her head startled her from her dazed grief.

*You have to go…*

Disassociated from herself, she nodded in numb agreement with the 'voice'.  Her psyche automatically reverting to Manticorian basic training - mind and body now operating on autopilot, the natural response of her body to shield her from her anguish.  

Looking down at his prone form, she saw that his shirt had fallen open, probably from her earlier ministrations.  Her hand mechanically reached out to pull it closed…and her eyes suddenly locked on the marks on his chest.  Her hand froze in its path, as her brain registered what she was actually seeing.

His shirt had partially covered it before, but she could see it clearly now…terrible in its brutality and cruel in its simplicity.

452…

A message for her…from White…carved into the skin of Alec's chest.

She stared at the obscene writing, its message clear to her.  Alec had been killed…deliberately tortured and murdered, not for information…not to further Whites pursuit of the transgenic community…but as part of the sick 'cat and mouse' game he was playing with her.

Max felt an icy fury envelope her, burning her in with a fierce intensity...and the void in her soul, created by the loss of Alec began to fill with a violent vicious wrath.  She felt her fingers quiver with the sudden desire to rent…to tear…to destroy White and all those that worked with him.

Her head bowed, as the bitter raw emotion assaulted her…and she surrendered to it, welcoming the warmth of her rage, bowing her head as if she were receiving a blessing.  A gift…  *Perhaps it is…a way through the pain…*

Wrapping its burning heat around the wintry coldness of her heart, she started to shake again…as if her body was unable to contain the force of her emotions within the confines of mere bone, muscle and skin.   Her face hardened in an emotionless mask, like it had been carved from age-old stone…but her eyes burned with a black predatory gleam.  A hunter yearning to kill…

"Well…well…well.  How touching…" The voice was oily and mocking in its contempt.

Max froze, her body unnaturally still.  Cocking her head to the side, listening…she heard the low snickering laughter of three other voices, and detected the distinct scraping of four pairs of feet on the concrete floor.  A cold smile skimmed across her face, never reaching her eyes, and she patiently waited for them to approach.  

Four men stepped forth from the darkened shadows of the warehouse, advancing menacingly towards her.  Their appearance and stance identified them as trained assassins, professional killers each and every one of them.  Max's black eyes studied their approach with the calm detachment of a predator assessing its prey.

The tallest of the four, taking the centre lead, was well built, lean and muscular with the physique of an elite soldier.  He moved with the grace of someone well trained in the art of killing.  Tattoos patterned his arms and shoulders, rippling with the movement of his muscles, and his cold blue eyes glittered with an unspoken savagery.  Max felt the hair on the back of her neck bristle and rise – an instinctive sense told her that this tawny haired man was a Familiar.

The other three men looked like mercenaries - killers for hire.  Although not in the same league as their boss, their stealth and natural hunting movements bespoke extensive training in the study of causing pain.

The tawny haired man motioned to the two men on his left.  Of these two, the nearest mercenary was a heavy set dark man, his skin as black as obsidian, while the other had the swarthy angularity marking him as someone of eastern European descent.

"Archer…Vint… keep it tight on the left…Luca and I have the right."  Both men nodded at his order, and then grinned at his next words.  "Now let's have some fun…it's transgenic hunting season and we've just bagged us two for the price of one."  The four of them spread out as they advanced towards her, creating a wide area for attack, establishing their kill zone.

Max sat waiting, her body primed with an eerie stillness…listening, and watching …observing every word, every action, registering each detail with the impassivity of a machine.  She read the deference the other three men gave the tawny Familiar, their leader…she assessed each man individually, determined each weakness…and then she selected her first kill.

Since leaving Manticore, Max had only ever fought out of necessity, to either escape or evade danger, to rescue and to save…never just to kill.  Despite Manticore's dehumanising training, and its indoctrination, she'd never allowed it to fulfil its ultimate goal, that being to turn her into the perfect soldier…the perfect killer.  She'd always known she'd been born to kill, that it was what she'd been designed to do, better than any other, and because of this she'd always resisted that deliberate killing impulse, never wanting to cross the line within herself.  Unwilling to find pleasure or satisfaction in the giving of death…until now.  With Alec's death, she now embraced the instinct.

The four men slowly creeping towards her glanced across to each other, sharing grim smirks at her apparent immobility.  Mistaking her stillness for surprise…or fear.

They had no idea that they were already dead…

The tall Familiar faltered as he came close enough to see her face clearly… his eyes narrowed in consternation.  The hair on the back of his neck prickled with a precognitive sense of foreboding.  *Why doesn't she look afraid…?*

Sensing that something wasn't quite right he turned his head slightly to motion to the other three to hold back.  He opened his mouth to speak the order…and halted in shock as he felt something impact him at the base of his throat.

A hot sticky substance bubbled and filled his throat, making it difficult for him to breathe.  He tried to speak but no words issued forth from his mouth.  Confused he raised his hands to his neck…and felt the handle of a knife jutting out close to the skin.  Looking up in disbelief, he saw a horror and incredulity mirroring his own on the other men's faces as they stared at him with mute shock.

*I didn't even see her throw it…*

Choking on his own blood, his legs buckled and he dropped to his knees, his hands now desperately clawing at the knife hilt, unable to pull the cold metal from his flesh.  He could now feel the edge of the knife pressing on the vertebrae of his spine, and the tip of the blade extending through the flesh at the back of his neck.

Max smiled coldly as she watched the Familiar's hands scrabbling at his own throat.  Then with a sudden swift movement she let her body fall backwards, neatly rolling over her shoulders to rise onto her feet with the fluid agility of a cat.

Startled by her sudden movement Archer, the dark skinned mercenary swivelled his attention back towards her, shouting a warning to the other two men.  Each of the men just starting to realise that they had severely underestimated the woman.

"Holy shit… look sharp!"

The soldier that stood to the right of the now dead Leader was pure blond in colour, almost albino skinned.  He was suddenly thankful that he had a metal table and at least eight metres separating him from this deadly woman.  He studied her standing silently before them, her hands resting beside her body…

*So damn fast…how'd she thrown the knife so fucking fast?!*

He watched her expressionless face, and shuddered when he looked into her eyes, because they were as black and emotionless as a bird of prey.  He took an unconscious step backwards…

His nervous movement drew Max's attention, and she swivelled her head to focus on him, like she had picked up his scent.  Her cold eyes fixed on him like a target.  She recalled hearing his name…*Luca…Luca…lucky Luca….  Moving with an unnerving speed, she suddenly launched herself into a dive over the table separating them.

"Oh Fuck!" Luca immediately reached for the gun he had secured in a chest holster, but it was already too late.

Max's body curled in a somersault as she flew over the table, uncoiling at the last possible moment with a snap, slamming both her feet on the hard ground.  Using the force of the action to build her momentum and drive her forward, she began a series of flips and layouts that enabled her to cross the open space between them in a matter of seconds.

Luca's eyes were wide with fear and he frantically kept repositioning his gun, desperately trying to get a lock on her.  A nervous twitch jumped in his check as he clenched his jaw, his eyes wild with panic.  The blinding speed and confusing pattern of her movements made it impossible for him to focus on her long enough to shoot.  The alarmed shouts of the other men were doing nothing to relieve his sudden morbid foreboding.

The gymnastic tumbling of the girl abruptly ceased, as she suddenly landed with the lithe grace of a wild cat directly in front of him.  With an inhuman speed she grabbed his extended gun arm and displaying an unexpected strength she pulled him towards her.  Luca felt himself suddenly unbalanced and he stumbled forward.

Her actions blurred with another burst of speed, and he was conscious of her dipping sideways under his arm, pivoting so her back was towards him, and she was now standing beside him.  Max's arm whipped out with a striking action, and Luca screamed in sudden pain, as she snapped the wrist of the hand that had been holding the gun, with a clean break – with no more effort than if she had been breaking a twig.  He stared in disbelieving horror as he watched his gun fall from his now useless fingers, to the concrete floor – not one bullet having left the chamber.

Without sparing him any time to recover Max ducked, and using a quick sliding motion, she repositioned herself back inside the confines of his arms.  With her back now pressed hard against his chest, she kicked her leg up over her head, smashing her foot into his face, splintering his nose.  She slammed her elbow backwards into his chest, and smiled with cold approval as she both felt and heard the satisfying crunch of breaking bones.

With a preternatural sense, Max spun on the ball of her foot and danced outside the screaming mans' arms, blurring and ducking behind him – just as a half dozen bullets slammed into his chest and torso.  Using his gurgling body as a shield to protect her from their weapon fire, she moved rapidly across the area towards the remaining two men, forcing them backwards against the wall.

Despite the fact that the man previously known as Luca, was now a dead weight in her arms, Max tossed his lifeless body at the angular mercenary to her right, like she was tossing a mere parcel.  She moved with a speed and incredible force terrifying to behold – transformed into a weapon of utter destruction.  Internally she was ablaze with a terrible wrath, and completely focused on one objective…total obliteration of those that stood before her.

Luca's body slammed into the other man, knocking him to the ground, momentarily rendering him senseless.  Max turned to face her new opponent, the dark skinned man that had seemed so cocky only moments before, now looked decidedly less sure of himself.

*Archer…I'm here to make you a citizen of Death's grey land…*

With a growl of frustration he threw his now empty gun to the cement floor – having fruitlessly emptied the round into his ex-partner Luca.  *Didn't even hit the bitch once!!?!*

A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face as he observed the woman before him.  She'd resumed that trademark stillness, which he now knew indicated that she was preparing to strike.  For the first time in his career as a professional killer, he felt a total certainty that he had met someone who was more than his match…he could almost feel the cold breath of the Reaper upon the back of his neck.  He reached down and removed two lethal looking knives from their bindings against his thighs, a wide smile stretched his lips across his brilliant white teeth, and he spoke directly to her – one warrior to another.

"Bring it on baby – I'm ready when you are…"

A distorted mirror image of his own smile spread across her full sensual lips – however it was hard and cold, and he shivered slightly at the callousness he witnessed in her eyes.  Taking an opportunity to attack her first, he lunged at her without warning – but he found to his horror that his knife was simply thrusting into the empty air she had possessed only moments before.  He never even saw her move, it was like she was made of shadows and air…she simply blurred away from him faster than his eyes could track her.

"You missed…I'm right here."  The taunting sound of her voice spoke into his left ear.

He desperately swung the blade he held in his left hand towards her position, turning his body in the same motion.  Gasping he realised she was gone again.

"You missed _again…how sad for you"  This time the voice came from his right, and despite it's honeyed charm it had a cruel jeering edge to it.  He roared in fury and frustration…this time though he spun out of his position, hoping to confuse her.  He ran forwarded and turned, staring wildly about him, searching for her around the room._

"Enough…you are beneath me."  He froze in shock, and terror.  The voice was directly behind him.  It had whispered with a harsh vehemence directly into his ear.  He felt a steely strong hand snake along his left arm, forcing his hand downwards, imprisoning the blade and the arm against his body…whilst she reached from behind to grasp his other hand in her own.  Forcefully moving it against his will, until he was pressing the blade against his exposed throat.

"I won't even waste my time killing you – you can do that for me!"  With that she drew his hand swiftly back across his neck.

Blood sprayed out from the wound, bright flecks of crimson staining the side of her face.  Max didn't bother wiping the spatter from her skin, instead she calmly released her hold on the mercenary and stepped backwards to survey her handiwork.  Archer slowly sunk to his knees before her, staring in voiceless horror as his life force ran out across the cement, painting a lurid mural in burgundy against the grey background.  His eyes fluttered shut and he fell heavily forward.

A terrified noise sounded to her right, and Max spun slowly on her heel, like some kind of menacing Music Box doll.  The frightened murmuring had come from the final soldier of mis-fortune, now recovered from his concussion, who was desperately trying to heave the heavy body of his fallen partner off him.   He desperately increased his efforts as he watched Max slowly walk towards him.

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Authors note: Yes, apologies for the violence – but I really wanted to capture how a human weapon like Max might react if she were ever seriously provoked into it…I promise a positive resolution to this story in the final chapter (Layer 003 – Resurrection).  I 'pinkie' swear it…honest I do!


	3. Resurrection

Title: Angel of Death  
Author: Nimitz4  
Rating: R  
Show: DA  
Genre: Drama  
Pairing: Max / Alec  
Type: Complete

Summary: Alec has been captured and tortured by White…how dark will our angel Max allow herself to become?

Authors Note: This is for all the angst addicts out there…I wrote this on a wet grey winters day when I was listening to 'Clubbed to Death' (DJ Rob D) over and over and over again, so the weather and that song set the tone.  
Disclaimer: I don't own DA – if I did the show would still be running…

And if my skin were glass my love, you would see,

A heart that keeps on beating…

Only in the hope that you'll return to me…

_Moloko – I Want You (Album: Statues)_

**ANGEL OF DEATH**

Layer: 003 – Resurrection 

Vint's brown eyes bulged wide with panic as he witnessed the steady progress of the woman calmly walking towards him with a terrifying relentlessness.

Relief swept across his features as he finally gained leverage, and managed to get to his knees – stumbling onto shaky legs; half crouched he tried to run, openly fleeing for his life from the personification of death that now pursued him.  He didn't get to his second step before his feet were swept out from under him.

The impact of his unprotected body slamming into the concrete forced the air from his lungs with a loud gasp.  He felt warm blood in his mouth where his teeth had bitten down hard on his lip during the fall.  Half dazed Vint frantically groped at the ground beneath him as a desperate instinct for survival surged through him.  All logical and strategic thought was driven from his mind by an overriding primal and absolute compulsion to survive.

Suddenly he felt his torso being propelled forcibly upwards.  Vint screamed as he felt several of his ribs snap and splinter inwards from the sheer brute force of the kick, and he was rendered temporarily immobilised by the excruciating pain.  A cold clamminess extended throughout his body, and a landscape of white assaulted his mind…for several seconds he thought he might pass out.  He was only vaguely aware of a pair of small hands deftly padding him down and removing his weaponry, his dazed mind somehow able to determine that the clattering skitter he could hear, meant that she was casually flinging his various guns and accoutrements away from his reach.  Removing any hope he may have had of defending himself against her.

He moaned in agony as her foot nudge him in the side – an unspoken demand that he turn onto his back.  Slowly and painfully he obliged her insistent prodding, almost fainting from the pain, as his splintered ribs jabbed and tore at him deep inside.

For several seconds Max stared down at the broken man before her – totally terrified and cowed.  With a sudden swift lunge she bent down and knotted her fingers in the soldiers' hair.  Grabbing a handful she started dragging him back towards the metal table.

Vint yelped in pain and his feet scrabbled uselessly at the floor, as he tried to gain enough leverage with his feet to elevate his body off the ground, to relieve the terrible tearing pressure on his scalp.

His head suddenly smacked into the concrete, as Max released her fisted grasp on his hair.  Vint watched with bowel retching terror as Max straddled his hips with her legs, and then squatted down to crouch over him.

For a long moment she perched above him, studying his face with the cold dispassionate countenance of a stone carving.  A modern day sphinx.  Her beautiful hard features now speckled with blood, her eyes glowing with a dark cruelty that turned his blood to ice.  Leaning forward until her face almost touched his, she parted her full red lips and drew in a deep breath, as if tasting his fear across her tongue.

With a measured deliberate action she extended her hands out, and with a gentle almost loving caress, slowly ran them up his belly, to his chest.  Her eyes half closed and a tiny smile crooked the corner of her mouth, as if she savoured some long forgotten memory.

Vint felt her hands tighten around the fabric of his shirt, and he both felt and heard the ripping sound as she tore his shirt open, bearing the skin of his chest to the cold air.  He started to shudder with fear as he felt the wintry kiss of a metal blade upon his exposed skin.  He felt tears run unbidden from his eyes…down his cheeks.

"No…please don't…please…"

Max's eyelids fluttered open, and she blinked as if awakening from a dreamlike state.  She smiled tenderly at the crying man before her, reaching out her hand to stroke his cheek, tenderly brushing his tears away.

"Shhhh…shhhhhh…"

His sobbing started to subside into hiccuping gulps as he stared at her beautiful face.  Listening to her crooning voice, a small hope began to rise in his eyes.  Only to be banished by her next words.

"Shhhh….you must be brave…shhhhhh…"

The featherlike brushstrokes of her fingers increased in pressure, and her hand suddenly covered his mouth.  Her knees pressed down onto his stomach restraining his writhing body beneath her own body weight.  The force of her hand smothered the scream that tore from his throat, as she made the first incision into his flesh.  

Vint's brown eyes bugged in mortal terror; they rolled wildly about desperately seeking assistance from any source, but finding none present.  He was openly begging for his life now, his garbled pleading breaking into terrified screams behind the wall of her hand.

"Should I spare you?"  The question uttered in her cold monotone managed to penetrate through his terror, silencing him.

His eyes focused back on her frozen features.  He slowly nodded behind her hand, his eyes wide with silent petition.

"Should I take _pity on you?"_

Again, he nodded…sobbing gasps racking his body.

"Show _compassion…like that which was shown to Alec?" Max's voice was now hardening and rising in growing anger on each uttered word, where before there had been an emotional void, there was now a chilling well-spring of wrath.  "I wonder…do you think anyone wiped away Alec's tears as he screamed in pain?  Took pity on** him when **he** begged?  **__Do you?!?!?  I doubt it…"_

Her face contorted with rage, her brown eyes now glistened and burned with hate.  Renewing the pressure of her hand upon his mouth, she bent her head and resumed her task, studiously carving her message into Vint's body.

Vint's throat was hoarse from screaming and his cries had long faded into ragged sobs, when Max finally completed the last character in her foul calligraphy.

452…

*A message for you, my dear White…let me repay one gift with another…

Her eyes gleamed with a dark emotion, as she again studied his face.  Vint could only lie still with exhausted hopelessly, like a small prey trapped beneath the killing paws of its natural predator.  A bleak acceptance washed over him - Vint knew what was about to come.  He felt the coldness of the knife resting against his throat, and he closed his eyes, making a mute peace with the world, in preparation for death.

Max gently brushed the tip of the knife back and forth against his neck, without breaking the skin.  With an almost detached manner, she etched a path down his throat, and between the marks on his skin, before bringing the blade to rest on the place on his chest which shielded his heart.

She held it there for some time, and her face hardened once more into a mask, her eyes staring vacantly at the knife as if she had withdrawn once more within herself.  It was as if she were waiting for something…as if a silent debate was raging deep within the locked confines of her mind.   Then with a sudden swift movement she drew the knife upwards, her arms extended high above her head, preparing to make the death blow.  

She swung the knife down…  Suddenly, the downward movement of her hands was held by the only voice in the world she both yearned and mourned for…

"Max…stop…"

Her body snapped still…frozen…her eyes widened with shock, staring unseeing before her.  Her chest was bound tight, unable to breathe…she feared to hope.

_*I must be going mad…_

"Max…don't…" Alec's whispered voice was weak, as if the effort of speech was a terrible burden.

Her eyes flooded with the tears as a heartbreaking joy overwhelmed her.  Rising on unsteady feet, she turned to find pained hazel eyes watching her, lying where she had left him.  In a heartbeat Max was beside him.

Sinking to her knees, she reached out her trembling hands to embrace him, burying her face into his chest.  Alec winced, his eyes half closed in pain, but his handsome face broke into a weary smile.

"Alec…Alec…" His name sounded like a prayer upon her lips.  She was sobbing with a bitter happiness, great gasps shaking her body.  "I thought…I _believed…I'd lost you…"_

He reached up one bruised hand, and slowly stroked her dark hair, savouring its softness, rejoicing in the feel of her within his arms.  He sighed in quiet gratitude.  With a visible effort he mustered a quirky grin - a half croaky, half whispered voice followed.

"Hey now…who would give you hell if I wasn't around?"

At the sound of the gentle teasing in his voice, Max slowly lifted her face from the warmth of his battered skin, her cheeks wet with her tears.  Looking deeply into his eyes her mouth quivered, and broke into a relieved smile.

"Promise me…never…._never again…"_

Unable to continue, the smile crumbled and tears ran freely once more.  Her dark eyes glowed with an emotion Alec had never witnessed in them before.  He felt his chest constrict with elation as Max lowered her lips to kiss him with a soft tenderness that tore his heart.

*How long have I wanted this?  It has felt like a lifetime…

He drank her in, breathing in her taste, her smell and the feel of her body against him.  He reached up to press her harder against him…and winced at the pressure upon his bruised lips.

Feeling his pained jerk, and mindful of his bruised mouth and other injuries, Max reluctantly parted her lips from the warmth of his own.  Lifting her face from his, studying his features again with thankful eyes, she saw a frightened concern sweep across his face.  His fingers lightly brushed at the flecked blood patterning her jaw.

"You're bleeding…

Her hand snaked up to capture his hand in her own, her voice hardening with a remembered anger.  "It's not mine…" 

She looked down, shamed with the memory of her actions, but unwilling to regret.  A feeling of acceptance washed over her, and she looked back at him.

"Alec…let me get you out of here."

He nodded in relief, but groaned with pain as she assisted him to his feet.  Max draped his arm across her shoulders, and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, supported his weight under her own strength.  Alec's eyes widened as he took in the bodies of the men around the room.

"Maxie…!"

He felt her body stiffen slightly at his half whispered amazement….he could feel the tension of her body against his, as if she were fearing his reaction to the slaughter before them.  It took a moment for him to take it all in, and when he spoke his voice, although hoarse from the suffering that he'd endured, was warm and low in her ear.

"I'm impressed…Remind me never to piss you off, _this_ much…" He smiled as he felt her expel a relieved sigh.

The path of their slow progress passed by Vint.  He lay where she had left him, immobilised by his injuries and drained by an overwhelming sense of relief at still being alive.

Max paused.  Looking down towards Vint her face hardened with grim purpose.

"I have a message for your boss.  Tell White…the next time I drop by, I'll be coming for him."

Vint swallowed at the cold promise behind her eyes, and slowly nodded his head in acceptance of the task.

Pulling Alec closer against her, savouring the feel of his lean body against hers, she looked up into his face and smiled.  Alec's face broke into an answering smile, and they resumed their measured pace again, away from the darkness of the warehouse.      

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